


Waiting For The White To Fade To Black

by justlikedaylightsavingstime



Series: Supernatural Pairing Bingo [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Jo stands up to Naomi, mentions of torture, not a happy fic, this is fairly dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikedaylightsavingstime/pseuds/justlikedaylightsavingstime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naomi wants information. Jo refuses to play nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting For The White To Fade To Black

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Waiting For The White To Fade To Black  
> Pairing: Naomi/Jo  
> Type: Captor/Captive  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Word Count: 1,254  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.  
> Warnings: Mentions of torture. Pretty dark. Swearing. So I've given it a high rating just to be safe.  
> Notes: I’m not sure where I was going with this. Not smutty at all.

Blazing light. All she could see were blinding white lights flashing through her retinas, burning through her nerves and short circuiting her brain. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She couldn’t even close her eyelids. Just surrounded by painful white, white white. The longer the sensation lasted, the weaker her struggling became and she moved closer towards a state of nonexistence. It felt like days before the light started to shimmer, started to break down and leave little black spots floating in front of her eyes. Slowly her consciousness began to spread, flowing through her body, nudging at her heavy limbs and leaving her with a strange sensation of all-over pins and needles. 

Slowly, oh so slowly her vision began to flicker right again. Blinking began to reveal rectangles of light, broken up into flashes of lines by Jo’s still squinty vision. As the blinding white light receded she found it replaced by the outline of her room.

She quickly realised that the rectangles of light were some sort of wall art piece, cut from a shiny metal sheet. The rest of the room was similarly decorated, mostly white with the odd metal surface. The room had a futuristicy, star warsy vibe, one that didn’t sit well with Jo and left her feeling completely out of place.

An impressively sized glass desk seemed to be the main focal point, looking like it was too fragile to stand up under good ol’ how’s your father session. Even in her dizzy state she still managed to choke out a little chuckle at the thought. Her giggle was quickly checked by an obvious cough from the woman balanced awkwardly against the desk. Jo immediately reached for her gun, but in her woozy state achieved little more than taping her wrist against her thigh.

“I need information. Information about the Winchesters.”

Jo could do little more than squint up at the prissy woman sternly gazing down at her in the blinding white surroundings. She instinctively knew that this woman was dangerous, a threat to Jo and hers. Her face rarely shifted from its stick-up-the-ass expression, matched by an equally empty and steady deep voice. The tight auburn bun and cold deep blue eyes screamed out angel, sending Jo into another bout of struggling. And the grey powersuit and white button up were frankly just plain boring. The steady voice came again, a hint of impatience brushing through it this time. “I shall not ask you again. The Winchesters.”

Despite her drugged up state Jo managed to half pull off a half decent shrug. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you lady. Sam’s got a lot of hair. And Dean, well he’s got a nice ass. Dude can knock back a straight one, that’s all I know.

“Do you know what happens to someone who dies under the taint of hell hound blood?”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.” Jo was increasingly trying to maintain her cocky demenor whilst crushing down the building panic. Her fuzzy brain was beginning to pull together threads of thought, dragging up memories of whips and knives and blasts, and worst of all her mom’s screams.

“They automatically get a special invite to hell. I’m pretty sure Alistair is there right now, giving your mom his undivided attention.” Careful not to rise to this stuck up angel’s bait, Jo just raised an eyebrow at her captor. “Now, right now you can help me help you to help your mother. Tell me what you know about the Winchesters and you can both have a guaranteed place in Heaven. I will drag your mother up from perdition myself. But I need the information first.”

“How am I supposed to trust you when I don’t even know your name?”

“Naomi. Now are you going to cooperate or not?”

There wasn’t really a choice here. Whatever the Winchester’s had got themselves into was big, universe level big. And whilst Jo had no desire to piss off the very powerful angel in front of her, she also couldn’t abandon the cause she and her mother had died for. Their deaths would have meant nothing otherwise. Gritting her teeth against whatever backlash was coming, Jo gave her answer.

“I have some friends that would be real upset if I started cavorting with scum like you.”

A violent fist slammed down, and everything disappeared.

***

Jo flickered her eyes open upon a pair of pale blue eyes resting barely an inch from her face. She jerked back in her seat, yelling. Scooting as far back as the chair would allow, Jo gripped the arms until her knuckles flashed as white as the seat leather. 

“We’ve been through this too many times already. I’m running out of time.” Jo did little more than blink at the businesslike voice. Something in those unblinking eyes kept her rooted to the spot, even as one part of her brain screamed ‘ENEMY’, ‘ATTACK’ and ‘NEED WEAPON’ at the stunned part. 

“Before we start this I’m going to ask you one more time. I am reasonable after all. What do you know?” Naomi was completely calm and collected, only the malicious glint to her eye giving Jo any indication of what was to come.

“Before we start what?”

The suited woman let out a little sigh of disappointment that lacked all sincerity but still managed to send a shiver down Jo’s spine. “Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Completely ignoring Jo’s question the woman leaned forward the last inch, closing the space quickly and smashing her mouth against Jo’s cheek in what must be some ridiculous parody of a kiss. The foreign mouth was harsh and cold, and unmoving against Jo’s protests. Once she recovered from her shock, Jo immediately lashed out, slamming her fist into the woman’s side as hard as she possibly could….and felt like she was bashing it against a wall. In fact not even a wall because they could crumble, there was absolutely no give in the woman, it was like punching concrete.

She didn’t seem to register the assault, her hand closing tightly around Jo’s throat until the white stars faded out to black.

***

This time she could hear voices, all too familiar voices, crying out to her, begging her for information. The loudest of all was a sweet male voice, lost far too long ago and all too familiar. “Dad?”

No her Dad was dead. “No! NO!” Her voice ringing out was the last thing she heard before she disappeared was lost unconsciousness.

***

Jo stopped opening her eyes when she woke up. It was always the same. It didn’t stop Naomi’s touch against her cheek or the scrape of metal, or the whisper of promises (whatever Naomi thought it would take this time). But at least she could claim a modicum of control with lids shut tight over the whole ordeal.

***

It was with a wary sense of triumph that Jo found herself blinking her eyes open onto dim corridors and dim glowing eyes. She’d lost count of the number of times Naomi had tried to tinker with her body and her mind. A soft sigh escaped from her lips as she revelled in the fact she hadn’t cracked. She just had time to send a lovely fuck-you prayer to Naomi before a demon came barrelling towards her. Time to find her mom and get this show on the road. Nothing quite like jumping from the fire into the frying pan.


End file.
